3 miles (12:12)

I ran today and Mo didn’t kill me. That is a good thing.

The run itself was no big deal. Perilously close to going under 12s. In fact, were I running for vice president, I could safely report that I averaged a nudge under six-minute miles. But I’m not, so I didn’t.

We were running at the track in a short break between two rain storms. The clouds were closing in on us like a Kenyan on a fading Ryan Hall. But as we hit the three-mile mark, still no rain.

I went for the car keys. Then realized I had no idea if I’d taken them out of the car, and if so, what I had done with them.

An explanation: I am a creature of habit. Park, glasses off, wallet in middle, keys in left hand, out of car. I’m OK as long as I follow this routine. But today, m had handed me her Garmin in a futile attempt to change the settings on it. I had messed with it for a while before she mentioned that she only expects to live another 60 years or so, and we were using most of them up.

Fast forward: Now I’m standing at the bleachers of the track with a sinking feeling that I left the keys behind. I don’t remember hiding them near the stands. I don’t remember leaving them in the car. The only thing I remember is the Alamo.

The only solution would be a walk home, followed by throwing ourselves on the mercy of the apartment maintenance guy, who would charge us $55 to walk the 10 feet from his apartment to ours to open our door.

Mo is not happy. I know this because she is giving me the “yes, I would disembowel you where you stand except it’s not politically correct to do so on a Catholic school track” look. I fear for my life, and for the children of Sudan. (It doesn’t feel so selfish if you throw in some orphans.)

And then. I spot the keys in a clump of grass. I remembered them after all. I will live to play ukulele another day.

As we are three steps from the car, the skies open up. The rain pours down. We don’t care. We’re in the car.

I live to run another day. I hope the weather’s nice in Sudan today …

3 miles, track, noon (75-71, 146)
36:40 (12:12)
12:09, 12:06, 12:22

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About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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